“I-I was dreaming.” She scanned the room. “I was here, in Ali’s room. We were all so upset.”
“Because of the break-in?”
“No, no.” She grabbed his hand. “You died. Oh, God, Seth, you died!”
He recoiled some. “Of what?”
“Of….” Her brow furrowed. “Of a stab wound, but it happened in my house by a masked man.”
“You’re combining two events, honey, like what happens in dreams.”
“I guess.”
He scowled. “Your hands are shaking.”
She bit her lip. “I can’t stop it.”
“Want me to stay here in a chair?”
“No.”
“Oh, okay.” He started to stand.
She grabbed his hand. “I want you to sleep next to me.”
“You won’t be happy when we wake up.”
“I’m clear-headed now. That’s what I want.”
He’d started wearing pajamas bottoms for decency since he was staying in his mother’s house. So, he stretched out next to her. She cuddled right into his bare chest, like she used to, and his hand went to the silky skin of her arm.
She dozed.
But Seth couldn’t go back to sleep. He lay in the bed, holding her, and the notion that he had lost all this—and why—forced its way to his consciousness…
She was sixteen when he first broke her heart. She’d come over to his house and up to his room. He’d smiled from where he sat on the bed with a book. “Hey, girl.”
“Sandy Baker called me.”
His face lost its color.
“Is it true?”
“Please, Jules, sit and we’ll talk.”
“I want to know if you slept with her. Before you even slept with me?”
“I got drunk when I went to the lake with the guys. A bunch of girls came. She was one of them.”
He hadn’t noticed the bag she carried with her. She lifted it up. “I don’t want these anymore.” She dumped the contents onto the floor. His sweater. A necklace he’d given her. A flannel shirt. Pictures. “You can go to hell, Seth.”
And she walked out. She refused to see him, except when they passed in the hall. He tried to talk to her but he eventually gave up. They didn’t even go to the senior prom together…
Now, she moved restlessly beside him. Her hair brushed his cheek and he could smell the lemony scent of her shampoo. She murmured in her sleep, but he couldn’t make out what she said. He stayed awake another hour. Then she stirred and nuzzled into him so he knew she was awake. “I was so scared.”
“I know. I’m sorry this was necessary.” He gestured to the bed. To them.
“I’ll be sorry later. But I can’t shake those horrific dreams of something happening to you.” She eased away so she could look at him. Her eyes were slumberous “Kiss me Seth. Just a kiss. Make me forget for a little while.”
He brushed his knuckles down her cheek, though his hand was shaky. He lowered his head. The moment his lips touched hers, tears clouded his eyes. She rose up and met his mouth with hers and parted her lips. He explored the inner recesses of her mouth. She cupped his nape, drew him further into her. He took more.
His heart hammered in his chest and he became light-headed, and unaware of his surroundings. She was all there was.
But the throbbing in his body brought him back, and he drew away slightly. His need would eclipse his mind, which told him going any further was a mistake. “W-we,” he stammered. “We have to stop.”
She touched his jaw, outlined his mouth. “I know. I’ll regret it if we go further.” She cuddled back into his chest again and murmured, “But I don’t regret this.”
They both slept.
* * *
As she told him, Julianne didn’t regret needing Seth so she could sleep. Her reaction was honest and she could live with what she initiated. She was glad, though, that he didn’t take the kiss as a sign that she’d changed her mind. She hadn’t, but she was even more regretful today about the ending of their relationship.
But it was what it was, and she found the strength to go for an interview with the police later that morning. His cousin Hayley and her fiancé Paul were coming to Carmella’s house to visit Seth, so she was happy to make herself scarce. At one time, Hayley had been Julianne’s friend.
At the HCPD precinct, she was shown to a big office, messy with files piled on surfaces, stuffed shelves and cabinets which probably contained more. But the large rectangular space sported a big window open to the afternoon air. Soon, a female came inside dressed in a police uniform. “Hello, Ms. Ford.” She held out her hand and they shook. “I’m Detective Anabelle Sanders. I’m assigned to your case.”
“Nice to meet you. Were you at my house yesterday?”
“Yes, but I didn’t see you there.” She took a seat behind her desk and Julianne sat opposite her.
“I talked to other police officers about what I saw when I went in, twice as a matter of fact.” Julianne could still remember the fear that had spiked through her at the intrusion into her home.
The detective nodded. “The scene itself is not what this meeting is for. The break-in could have been a run-of-the-mill B&E. We’ve interviewed and alerted your neighbors. However, the crime might be more personal, which is why I’m here now to pry into your life.”
Julianne liked directness. “Pry away.”
The woman smiled. She was blond and dark-eyed, pretty, with high cheekbones. “Tell me about your daily activities.”
“I own MusicWorks. I’m a music therapist.”
Detective Sanders’ light brown brows rose. “For troubled kids?”
“Yes. I also give private lessons not connected to the therapy.” She shrugged her shoulder. “I’m a noted violinist.”
“Anybody from the studio on your radar for yesterday?”
“My students seem to like me.”
“Anybody like you too much?”
She thought about Terrance winking at her. But she guessed he wouldn’t be bothered with a break-in. “No. A couple of boys flirt.”
“You’re very attractive, Ms. Ford.”
“Please call me Julianne.”
The woman picked up her tablet. “I need names.”
“Oh, God, no. Please don’t talk to anyone I teach. I need private clients to run my business and the troubled kids would be traumatized if you visited them.”
“All right, for now, we won’t do any interviews of them.”
“What will we do?”
“Tell me about your dating life.”
She flushed. But shit, she was like thousands of other people who did what she had. “I’m on RightMatch.com. It’s an online dating service.”
The detective typed that into her tablet. “As a police officer, I have to warn you that online dating is dangerous for young women.”
“We meet in a public place. In years past, a couple evolved into a…physical relationship, but none in the last year.”
“I want names.”
“For all of them?”
“How many are there?”